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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29535867">Stripped</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/seldomabsent/pseuds/seldomabsent'>seldomabsent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Days Gone (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Jealousy, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Smut, Swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:41:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,865</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29535867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/seldomabsent/pseuds/seldomabsent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Called by Deacon, James ends up facing his past.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James O'Brian/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stripped</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“O'Brian!” His radio screamed, making James jump out of his skin. Quickly distancing himself from the chopper and curious looks, he let out of annoyed sigh before the radio came back to life within a few seconds. “Goddamn it, O'Brian-” Now, James was used to the urge and insistence in the biker’s voice - but he was certainly not used to this panicked tone. He could almost hear the shaking hold he had on the device. “O'Brian! Get your fucking ass on the line!”</p><p>“Give me a minute!” He harshly snapped back, quickly pretending to check something farther away - praying the soldiers would leave him alone, which they gladly did. They were probably too used to his weird behavior. “What is going on?” He reached out after a minute, just as promised, only to be meet with silence.</p><p>He waited a second, another..</p><p>“Deacon?” He called, suddenly worried. Never did the man waited a second to insult him back.</p><p>“Fuck- O'Brian, are you out there?” Deacon was almost stuttering, breathing heavily. James started frowning, opening his mouth to call him before he heared him use the gentle tone he ever heard in his vulgar mouth. “It’s okay, you’ve got it, look, you’re so strong we’re almost there - you can do it, alright? Just a few more step,” Letting out another shaky breathe as the second person whispered too low for James to understand, Deacon turned back to him. “O'Brian, answer you son of a-”</p><p>“Where are you?” James wondered, completely lost, looking back to the chopper. Only a few soldiers were waiting for him, waiting for his next order. That could handle whatever mess Deacon was once more about to throw him in.</p><p>“Where can you get to the old pioneer cemetery? You know, one of your fucking checkpoint?” Deacon didn’t even ask him, ordering James, making his constant agreeing nod even bitter.</p><p>“You know this is a red zone, right?” He scoffed. “We don’t go North anymore, it’s too dangerous, especially near the caves-” Deacon interrupted him along the noise of a teared cloth. What the hell was happening?</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, no, don’t worry about that - there’s not a fucking moving thing around here anymore- Can you hurry?” James wanted to deny and ask why the hell would he still bother him after all the time and all the answer he gave him but as painful cries suddenly filled his ears, he felt his heart drop in his chest. “O'Brian, I really need your help,” Deacon spat the words out with difficulty. “Please.”</p><p>James stayed silent for a moment before closing his eyes, sighing and hurrying back to the chopper, deliberately leaving his radio on as he ordered the men the new direction. He barely needed to insist before they reluctantly executed, used to his weirdness but never did he put them in full danger. Hell, if he did, it was part of the job now. The ride there was a nightmare for him, wondering at what he was supposed to expect and if Deacon would once more call to ramble away. And he knew that with Deacon St. John in line, it could be everything.</p><p>Yet as he steps down in the old Nero Checkpoint after ten minutes of fly, he did not expected him to burst out of the abandoned shelter covered in blood.</p><p>Deek looked very pale, contrasting with the brightest of the dark blood covering his chest and his left cheek. His hands shook terribly under the deep red covering them, and James feared his nerves might have reached a breaking point. Calmly walking toward him, he took a hold of the biker’s arm, who jumped under the touch. He didn’t look to have more than a few scratched on him, confusing James at quantity of blood. This could only meant..</p><p>“You have to help her,” Deacon begged. The few minutes of travel seemed to have been eventful for the man to turn him so upset. Still confused but feeling as if James will always own a debt to him, he quickly walked inside the shelter after ordering his men to keep them safe. Deacon walked quickly but stumbled after him.</p><p>Once James opened the door he saw Deek come from, he almost choked at the scent of blood. It was suffocating and he wondered if it were truly better than the rotting corps he studied all day. In a way, maybe, it meant someone was living.. Or dying. Large drops of the dark blood covering Deek tainted the ground under his feet and trailed to the bed where an unconscious woman laid. She had her head turned, only letting James see recently cut hair drenched in blood. A large cut from her forehead seemed to have bleed from the side of her head, but what mostly worried him was the gunshot above her hip.</p><p>He took a deep breath and crossed the few steps separating him from her, ordering Deacon to sit down before he passed out on him. He guessed they were pretty close as Deek didn’t say a thing, complying in silence - almost tripping over himself. Deacon sat at her feet, one of his shaking hands holding onto her shoe, the other rubbing gently her shin. James still couldn’t see her face through the locks of hair and tears of blood but he didn’t linger on it. He nodded at the bandage pressed against the head wound, deciding it looked worst than it really was and turned to the pile of torn sheets gathered against her side under the torn out shirt.</p><p>“I- I tried to stop the bleeding but,” Deacon’s voice waved, as if he was on the edge of throwing up or fainting. Maybe both. “But there’s just so much- I can help her- but you, you can right? ”</p><p>James nodded absent-mindly before lifting the made up compression. The wound thankfully stopped bleeding but it was dirty none-the-less. Flesh had been burnt and torn, and after trying to get a good look of it, he gagged at the bullet launched in her hip bone. He tried to breathe as he slipped over her skin, earning a painful moan from the passed out woman - his gloves were too covered in blood to do anything productive and with a annoyed sigh, he took off the protection off his face and hands before stepping out of his suit. It looked like she wasn’t infected - and desperate situations were for desperate measures.</p><p>Deek didn’t inches, stayed quiet. He was probably too stuck in his own thoughts to really notice it, James thought. For a second, he reminded him of this old veteran he had to take care one day, a face that says too much had been seen. Shivering, he turned back to his new patient and tried to look around tools that could help him in his quest of healing.</p><p>It took a long of time and patience, but after what seemed, and probably was, hours, James stepped back and let out a long sigh. He had to go through Deacon’s supplies and the abandoned items around them to managed to do an okay-job but he managed to took out the bullet in one piece.</p><p>“It’s a fucking miracle it got lodged on her hipbone - I hope you realise that,” He said, washing his hands clean from the red. “I don’t even understand how it didn’t got farther. It should have at least shattered her bone. It barely brushed it, it’s just under the skin, it’s just.. Here?”</p><p>Deek recovered through his friend’s operation, collecting his calm and unspeakably reassured to see someone knowing what to do. “We were attacked by rifters after cleaning a horde,” He explained, eyes still locked on her peaceful face. If it weren’t such a situation, James would dare make fun of their red teary shade. “She was attacking by a fucking sniper but it went through his buddy first. He luckily became some kind of human shield, I guess.”</p><p>James scoffed. “Goddamn lucky, that’s right. She could have died - and you too! What were you thinking? And taking a horde? A horde?”</p><p>Deacon finally turned to him, his face darkening and his gaze scolding. “Yeah, we try to make it safe out here since you do such a great job.”</p><p>James let the insult pass over his head, knowing if he responded, they’ll never end this fight. Instead, it was Deek’s radio that cancel any argument from exploding. “Deek?”</p><p>Sighing so hard he thought he would lose a lung, Deek stood up - not after one last worried look to the still asleep woman. “Rikki, what do you want?” He asks harshly. “I’m a little busy.”</p><p>“Wanking off in the woods again? Don’t make me laugh, Deek. It’s about your little girlfriend,” The word seemed to hold more venom than it should. “She told me she was with you to some crusade shit or something but I haven’t heard anything from her for a while. Addy is worried.” James snorted at the quick last addition just as Deek did. It earned him a scold from Deek but it turned his head, washing his suit in a vain attempt to seem busy. He should really go anyway.</p><p>“Yeah, well tell Addy it’s.. Well, she’ll be fine. We’ll be back by tonight-”</p><p>“I don’t think so,” James suddenly intervened. Deek turned at him pissed, but mostly confused. “She can’t travel like that. She needs rest, at least for a day or two - especially without painkillers.” Deacon looked like he was about to argue but the growing worry that appeared in his eyes made James’ authority stronger.  "You need to stay here with her at least until tomorrow. Only if you got morphine or something - your friend got a hole in her side if you haven’t noticed.“</p><p>He knew Deacon’s upset face enough now to guess he was torn between shouting at him she could do it and cancelling everything to take care of her. Dilemma passed through his face before he gave in.</p><p>"Addy, it’s Deek,” The biker changed his station. “Do you copy?”</p><p>“Deacon? It’s Addy, what’s up? Do you know where-” The woman James guessed was Addy hurried through the radio, her concern clear in her voice.</p><p>“Yes Addy, she’s right here with me- Do you got morphine or something like that? Or do you know where I can found some?” He didn’t elaborate, earning a confused mumbles from the woman.</p><p>“Oh, Deek, what happened?” She sighed but quickly moved around, noise of her shuffling around getting through to the radio. “I don’t got any but Rikki told me there was a medical ressource in the North-”</p><p>“Perfect! Where?” Deacon nodded, looking immensely grateful before heading to the door, repeating the words the woman gave her - as if burning it in his memory. “We’ll come back by tomorrow-”</p><p>“And I’ll have a bed ready for her.” Addy sighed but seemed to close the conversation. “Whatever it is, she better be in a better state than Boozer, St. John. Addy out.”</p><p>The room fell silent again until Deek frowned at James.</p><p>“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asked, stopping him from touching the handle. James was back in his suit, clean and on his way to the chopper.</p><p>“I’ve got a job, Deacon,” He sighed. “I wish I could do more, but-”</p><p>“I can’t leave her here! And I might be off all night for her!” He shouted. James tried hard not to hear desperation, forcing his hand to open the door and stepping out. “O'Brian, you can’t leave her-”</p><p>“I have to!” James finally broke, alarming his soldiers and having to raise a hand to stop them from shooting Deacon. “Believe me, I wish I could do more-”</p><p>“Please, just stay with her, just long enough for me to grab the med- Just this night! Hell, I won’t even know how to help her with them!” Deek was begging now. James stood his ground, looking through the glass of his suit, his shoulders down. He was one mere please away from breaking his promise not to ever help him. “O'Brian. Please.” Shit.</p><p>He sighed loudly and let his head fall down. Nodding at the man, James turned to his soldiers. “There’s been a change of plans,” He said loudly, noticing Deek’s confused closing steps toward him. “I have to linger here longer than intended.”</p><p>The soldiers looked at each other, confused before one of them dared to step before him. “Sir?” He was confused. James found it hard to think of a lie. It wasn’t fair to lie to them, he thought. But he couldn’t risk having administration on him. Glancing at Deek’s hopeful face, he groaned. Fucking hell, he couldn’t get out of this mess, could he.</p><p>“Someone’s hurt, in need of assistance.” He admitted, earning surprised looks. “I have to stay but you go back to the base before troubles find you.”</p><p>The six men looked once more at each other before nodding at the one in front of James. “Sir, we’ll stay. It’s our duty to make sure you can come back in one piece, with us.” James stared confused at him before finding a sudden confidence under Deek’s confused stare.</p><p>“Soldier, it’s an order. Go back to base and come back tomorrow to get me.” His voice was weirdly assertive and he almost smiled as he saw Deacon step back.</p><p>The man stared at him before he heard some sort of a chuckle behind his mask. “Alright, sir. We’ll be on mission until tomorrow morning, waiting at a near abandoned base for security after our radio coincidentally broke.” A look at his men, and they all left in the chopper, heading east. James shook his head and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Thank God his team became fond of him and his weird behavior. Turning back to Deacon, he gave a small smile.</p><p>“Then, it’s settled.”</p><p>After giving Deacon a few tips to determine what was the needed medicine and watching him leave in a hurry, he frowned. The biker would surely ride all around the place to find everything, it would probably busy him for the whole night, even morning. James turned back to the shelter. He tried to get in silently, studying the face covered in bloody hair and being reassured to guess her still asleep. Once more stepping out of his suit, he walked quietly around to gather a bowl, a cloth and some water. Sitting slowly on the side of the bed, he sighed and dipped the cloth in the water. He delicately put his finger on the side of her face and lifted the cloth to clean his patient’s face.</p><p>But as he did so and finally clearly the stranger’s face, a loud gasp escaped him.</p><p>It took him a few seconds before starting to wipe the dried blood out of her face but the clearer her face became, the more realisation sunk in. And as he wiped the last dropped of blood around the wound of her forehead, reliving him to see it wouldn’t need for than a bandage, her face stirred and her eyes opened. Blinking the light and dizziness away, her face to fell into shock as their eyes finally meet.</p><p>“James?”</p><p>*</p><p>As you finally came back to reality, you didn’t expected to be meet with such blinding lights. As you tried to remember what happened, the memories of the horde flew in, your and Deek’s success of your attack but then so did the sudden arrival of the Rippers, the fear, the pain, the blood- You tried to blink it all away, the soreness of your side and headache numbing you until you noticed a head over yours. At first, you thought you would meet Deek’s, his usual concern eyes and quivering lips whenever you got to close to death, maybe too often. Yet, as your eyes focused, your breath got caught in your throat.</p><p>“James?” You wondered aloud.</p><p>His brown hair were as messy as you remember, the almost ebony locks still contrasting with the bright blue of his eyes. He looks older, probably due to the eternal stress and anxiety he held put to another level in this new world. It had been years since you saw him yet, he still looked like the confused naive boy you used to date before the apocalypse.</p><p>Shock remained in both your faces for a while before you tried to get yourself up, wincing instantly at the jolt of pain coming from your side.</p><p>“What the hell–”</p><p>“S-stay down!” He stuttered, annoyed as any confidence he had gain over the years crumbled in front of you. You always made him feel this way, and his heart clenched painfully at the thought he may not have grieved you correctly. He became the barely adult man he was when you got separated - just like he used to be whenever you looked at him. Why did you made him feel so helpless?</p><p>He managed to lay you back down by miracle, checking on your stitched wound with relief. A little more abruptly and you would have surely broken the strings one by one.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Taking in your confused frown, your beautiful eyes, your slightly parted lips- he struggled to breathe. Is this a dream, he almost choked.</p><p>“I'm– I’m as surprised as you, you know.” He  decided to say, his cheeks reddening at his attitude.</p><p>Silence fell between you as he continue his duty to clean you from the dried blood, spending an awful long time on clearing your messy cut locks from any residue.</p><p>“You cut your hair,” He found himself saying, remembering how he used to braid your hair each night, before all this mess started.</p><p>It felt like a life time ago - you and him, living your life, still discovering yourselves and worrying for the future but thinking you would survive it. In a way, you weren’t wrong - the future had been a battle for survival. He still remembered the look one your face when he told you he joined the NERO to help the situation. “Don’t do this,” you told him, getting off of him. “You’re gonna be cannon fodder. You’ll have to go into the heart of this.” He was upset at your reaction, trying to go after you but it only made you leave sooner. “I can’t stand on the sideway waiting to watch you die, James.” It broke his heart to see you so upset at him, but it was too late then. And after one slam of the door, he found himself alone with no idea of where you were and if you were okay. Was it still too late now? Remembering bitterly the look Deacon gave you before leaving, he jealously looked away.</p><p>Years spent head in work to avoid the constant heartache of never being over you while you moved on– of course you would. You deserve the world and so much more. He was just.. James O'Brian, the guy, the guy who helps but that you can spare. O'Brian the cannon fodder. How funny, you did told him he was always too eager to please everyone but too scared to stand up for himself.</p><p>“I had too,” Your voice brought him back to your present self. He dared to look up. By your frown eyebrows, he probably had the look of a beaten puppy. “It avoids a lot of unnecessary difficult situations.” You barely whispered, eyes locked in his.</p><p>He was confused for a second before remembering why he indeed loved your long hair so much: the way it fell in front of your face, the cute laugh you would get when it would end up in the middle of your kiss, the way it fell on his chest while you ride him, how he would grab it from behind you– Shaking his head, he busied himself to get up and ride of the few items in hand with a dark shade of red on his face.</p><p>Silence fell once more in the room. James’ longing was torn between finally turning to face you and praying Deacon would just come back already and leave like the coward he was. Memories were flowing back in his mind and he was ashamed of how his heart, and pants, tightened just with a look at your face. You had changed, but James would lie if he said it weren’t for the better. You seemed to have grown stronger than he ever thought you could be (hell, he already thought you were the most feisty and stronger woman he ever knew) and the thought that he could have maybe found you sooner lead him to think about how much he missed you. How he could have hold you, kiss you sooner– The thought of doing so right now leaded him to turn a darker red as they went to more intimate touches. Jesus, how old was he? 15?</p><p>Priorities you wanker, he scolded himself, priorities, dammit!</p><p>Turning at your confused call of his name, he sighed heavily. Here you were back into his life, alive, and all he could do was overthink. Again. How did you always know when something bothered him, he never knew, but no matter how thankful he was before for your help, at this moment, he didn’t need to think about how intimate you used to get to relieve your tension and stress. He needed a clear head and more blood flow to his brain.</p><p>“Yes?” He calls back, not daring to turn around and breathing deeply. If you saw him having a boner right now, he was sure the earth would open beneath and swallow him whole. If not, he will dig his way out himself.</p><p>“Come here.”</p><p>He almost choked on his breath. You knew. He didn’t know how you knew, but you knew. It’s been so long since you saw each other, not with the prettiest break up, how could your assertive voice still work on him? And how the hell did you knew? Was he still so obvious to his own body language?</p><p>Only turning around when he felt himself calmed down and less harden, he calmly looked over at you. Calmly being panicking internally while giving a soft glance to his surrounding – and you. You were still laid down but your hand was holding out to him. James took a shaky breath and slowly walked back to you. He sat on the floor, keeping his eyes at your level and after his heart missed a beat, gently took your hand in his. The gesture was tender but the longer you stayed like this, the more.. intimate it felt.</p><p>“I missed you so much..” A whisper sang. Was it you? Was it him? It didn’t matter.</p><p>Your finger intertwined with his, his other hand cupped the back of your hand, trapping it with warmth. You managed to crawl closer, putting your forehead against his. His heart beat loudly in his ears, but he couldn’t care. He could smell the familiar, how so comforting, scent of your skin, throwing him back in time to simpler times. When you would step messing around, be it after a stressful day or an argument, and you would both lie next to another, taking it the silence to linger onto the other’s breathing, the softest of your skin or the shining of your eyes. Time had its toll on the both on you, making you count and fight every second yet, in this instant - it stopped. It didn’t matter if the end of the world happened You were together, you were holding each other up and nothing could break you.</p><p>It felt like home.</p><p>He didn’t know who engaged it first, but your lips locked together. It was soft and for a split second, his shoulder felt relaxed, his worries were forgotten and his thoughts were on you only. The warmth of your lips, the familiar eager to brush over them tenderly, the softness of hand cupping his cheek- It was just you, James thought, and it will probably always will been.</p><p>You, you, you, you-</p><p>He suddenly stepped back, not daring too linger any longer. He’d lose himself if he held you one more second. He already lost you once and he could barely believed you were here again, after all this time. He felt his eyes tear up, the realisation slamming hard onto his hard. That was really you. And from Deacon’s eyes, you’d go on.</p><p>He avoided your confused eyes, busying himself by throwing the bloodied water down the drain. He moved around to escape your gaze but nothing could stop your voice to soften his heart.</p><p>“So you were Deek’s man.” You changed subjects, noticing his confused pace. James frowned, but nodded silently. You raised up with a painful face, clearly looking for words between your million thoughts. He tried to put you back down but you waved him off. “Thanks for helping him. And me.”</p><p>“Of course,” He almost snorted. As if he could let you, of all people, died without at least trying. He didn’t know it was you, but he sure as hell would be damned then.</p><p>“Still,” You continued, slowly pushing your back again the wall. You were wincing but the wound seemed to stay close. He stopped at your hand grabbing his, stopping him immediately. He froze under your touch, eyes focused on your hand holding his. You were so warm, so soft, so soothing. Your thumb rubbed the back of his hand and he felt this knees grow weak. You gently lead him to sit by your side and he couldn’t refuse you. Not when he got to have your hand in his again. “You saved me, James. If it weren’t for you-”</p><p>“I wouldn’t have let you die, Y/N, not after all these years thinking you were.”</p><p>A silent shock passed over your traits before a soft smile pulled your lips up. You pulled him closer and he frowned a little, stepping back. You didn’t take it badly and instead, took an interest in his flannel. You lifted your hand, passing it over the turned down collar. He almost stopped you but the look on your face stopped him. He knew what you were doing. He hated himself for recognising your darken gaze. The first button popped upon, being the only noise filling the shelter. Your fingers crawled up under the cloth, reaching the edge of his shirt. He shivered under your touch, hating how he loved the fire you brought under your fingertips, starting from his neck to the side of his left arm - only stopping once your fingers reach the thin bracelet sealed around his wrist. It was worn out and its light color faded to a dark grey - time, blood and dust had made sure to take away any color from him, including his most treasured token.</p><p>James suddenly remembered when you made it to him, about a month after meeting. It was a simple friendship bracelet, you told him, he couldn’t take it off himself. It would fall with time, when you’ll lost each other, your soft voice echoed in his head again. James couldn’t bring himself to tell you he fell head first the second your eyes met so this bracelet was much more to him. He still took your word for it, he cherished it and had been the only thing keeping him sane ever since you parted ways. Maybe it was thanks to it than he hung on so long. Life has stripped him of any joy and hope, but this simple bracelet held on just as he kept his love for you. Even time couldn’t reaped him away from you.</p><p>“You kept it.” You sounded surprised, he almost chocked. As if he could have tore off his only reminder of you. He wanted to tell you he never even thought about it. How it kept him sane when he ended up covered in blood from all the dead he couldn’t help, how it brought a smile to his face during night when the screams of the infected threatened to make him lose his mind before help could find him first. He wished he could just tell you all about it. But as you look up to him with those shining eyes of yours, and your hand tighten on his wrist, he couldn’t stop himself anymore. His breath stuck in his throat, he threw his lips on yours.</p><p>The kiss was messy but desperate as you both reached out for each other, touch-starved and longing for the long lost familiarity of the other. Your mouth had a taste of blood but also candy. It reminded him of all those kisses you shared years ago. It was only a matter of time before you managed to burst all his buttons open and throw the flannel on the floor. Your warm hands crawling under his shirt melting his cold skin made him gasp on your lips, earning a soft chuckle from you. He felt his face flushed at your lack of shirt but as his hand cuddled your waist to help you get on him, he scarcely pushed you back as he brushed your wound. Your wince made him heart fall in his chest just as you indeed stepped off him to stay down.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I-” He muttered, his hands shaking not knowing how to do before one of yours catched his.</p><p>“It’s okay, James.” You cut him quickly. You seemed to wave off the pain as you laid back against the wall, breathing deeply. He leaned down to check on your wound but your hand passing through his hair made him notice how low he was. Pratically leaning against the mastress, he was almost strattling you - your legs lifted on his thighs. It made him fluff red but you only laughed. He ignored you and tried to touch your bandage before your hand gently slap him away.</p><p>“Not so quick, cowboy.” You teased him, making him even redder.</p><p>“I wasn’t-”</p><p>“Strip for me.” Your words shock him to his core, sending an awkward hot jolt between his legs.</p><p>“I-I’m sorry?”</p><p>“I’m already almost topless. It’s not fair, don’t you think?” Pushing your words as you lifted the barely holding shirt showing your black bra, James swallowed hardly. You pushed his hands on your skin, helping him as he gently passed the cloth over your head to join his flannel. Your hands messed with his hair, pulling him closer to slam your lips back to his. The bit you take on his lower lip slammed another hot wave inside of him and before he knew it, a low groan escape him - his grip tightening on your thighs.</p><p>“Eager, are we?” You teased and it brought a dark blush on his face. He didn’t have the strength to fight you nor was he truly ready to admit how much he physically missed you. He hoped the growing tent in his pants were proof enough. His hands lifted his shirt over his head before throwing it somewhere, his bare chest now exposed much more than yours. Your hands fell from his locks, tracing all the scars accumulated on his skin. He was in a dire need of you, your touch, your skin, your lips, your heat, whatever he could have, he would beg for it all - until your hands gripped his belt and threw it open. His confused eyes met yours, an annoyed moan leaving him while he met your smirking face. Your hand was now settled on his bulge and massaging it through his jeans. It took him a minute to gather his thoughts back and find his voice back.</p><p>“Are you sure this is a good idea? You’re hurt-” He started but once more, you bit him to a full stop as your hand reached to touch him through his boxer.</p><p>“I need this, James. I need to think of something else, anything else. Please.” Your voice was a bare whisper against his lips now, and the pression you put against his cock was slowly driving him mad. He tried to fight it for a second, his conscience reminded him of how he could hurt you, how you should rest, but his blood was slowly relocating far away from his brain and all he could think of was how you were here, so was he and you had a long lonesome time to burn together. And if he did so under your touch, he would gladly combust for your pleasure.</p><p>And with those resolutions, he leaned on to kiss your neck. Your moans were something he realised he missed worshipping. Each lick and suction he put on your sensible skin earned him the sweetest sound, pushing him to continue, guided by your hand in his hair. Nibbling, he went down to your chest, your stomach, your hips.. Until the sudden hiss passing your lips made him jolt up, his hands leaving you to stop whatever he did to hurt you.</p><p>Did he do something wrong? Did  you regret it already? Maybe you did. Maybe he was stupid to think maybe you wanted him too, after all this time. In a way, you had Deacon, his mine bitterly nagged at him. You would have been mad to find love again with another broken soul. In a way, you all three lived this apocalypse thinking your loved on was dead, no matter the circumstances. Still, while he was alone and mourning you in a only one love lifestyle, it would have been foolish to think you, the most beautiful and strong woman he ever met, not to move on with someone as Deacon. He was an ass but he guessed in many ways, he could be a good person and a good match for you. Yet, it didn’t stop the burning poison of the thought of Deacon touching you alone to rush through his veins. Stupid immature jealousy burnt through him, sending anger and dark thought through his mind as his over-creative brain created spiteful images of Deacon and you bonding over your losses. Did he kissed you like he used to? Did he touched you like he used to? Did you enjoy it? He could feel himself grow angrier by the second. How pathetic was he to think you too would die having the thought of you as only reminder of what love felt like?</p><p>“James?” Your voice attracted him. “James, are you okay?”</p><p>Your eyes were frown. Clearly, he zoned out too long. He bit the inside of his cheek. Can he be even more pitiful? Your hand cupping his cheek shocked him once more out of his self-depraving course of thought. He almost jumped out of his skin before the soft and warm touch of your skin on his made him lean in. Oh, how he miss those simple interactions. Every touch felt so intimate to him, and he cherished them as if it were the last one them. In a way, he feared it would. Maybe Deacon was waiting for you somewhere. Were you the one Deek ran off to after James broke the news to him? Suddenly, the biker’s blessed silence felt like a cursed one. Was he fucking you while James thought he simply mourned?</p><p>“James.” Your voice grounded him back for good. Your eyes are hard but caring in his. Both of your hands held his cheeks and maybe a little roughly pulled him closer, forcing him to lift you up to sit you on his laps, your thighs holding him against you. He was suddenly more than aware of your hands on his bare chest, tracing his scars and nipples, and more importantly his boner under your pelvis. You somehow managed to put sown his pants during his black out and he was even more sensible through the think layer of his underwear. Biting his lips to keep any moans down his throat as you rubbed yourself against him, your chest met his as you forced yourself up on his laps. “What is it?”</p><p>Your eyes pierced him, trying to make sense of whatever was passing behind his chocolate eyes. He tried to lie, hold it down and fake a smile but as he smelt your sweet familiar scent, he couldn’t hold it in. Did Deacon got close enough to smell you too?</p><p>“Did you fuck him?” The words passed his lips before he could stop himself. Your eyes grew wild before a fit of laughs shook you. It didn’t ease James’ mind, rather adding fuel to his slashed heart. It was angrily than he grabbed onto your waist before liftying you up to lay you down on your back. “Did he touch you like this?” His hand slided your bra to play with your breast as the other worked your jeans open. The zipper flew down quickly and before you could make sense off the jealousy slowly consuming him, he stepped back, harshly pulling your boots and socks out of the way before dragging your jeans down along your panties. Your gasps merely mattered to him in this instant, his mind too busy imagining how you might have let Deacon do this. How before all of this shit, he was the one in charge to please you, the only one allowed to see you like this, to be the one making a mess out of you. Your hand was back in his hair and his lips trailed back up your legs, kissing and biting your skin until he reached your thighs - spreading them in one swift movement, laying between them. Altering kisses on your thighs on your stomach, he made a torture the soft caresses he passed over your sensitive clit. He could feel you wetting and was intending to make it a torture until you answered. “Did you let him?”</p><p>His eyes locked on your flushed face, closed eyes and mouth slightly open letting the hottest moans he ever heard. You weren’t to answer him? Fine. He would take the answers out of you if needed. Your hand in his tightened the second his tongue finally lapped over your clit down between your lips. You tasted just as good and sweet as he remembered. It comforted him for an instant, the flow of memories of all the time he spent on your most sensible body part rushing into him, his tongue and fingers soon playing you like he did before. You didn’t waste time to reward him with praises, his member twitching and growing at each of those, feeling grateful at each pull you had on his hair, each tremble of your thighs around his face. His hand soon had to hold you down, rolled around your right thigh while the other remember which spots to hit to have you melted behind him.  </p><p>He almost smiled as he felt your walls familiarly tightening around his fingers before the sudden yank on his hair forced his mouth to leave you. He growled before your hold forced him back up to meet your lips. Letting you taste yourself on his tongue, he put his throbbing cock against your wet cunt - truly fighting not to take you here and there already. His hand lifted your ass to put you back on his laps, gripping on your waist to stop you from writhing you against him. He would deny you any friction and any more attention until you admitted it. “Did you?” His hoarse voice repeated making you groan against his lips, yours hurriedly finding a spot behind his ear to suck on.</p><p>“You were my last, James.” You moaned in his ear, making him heaved as you bit his earlobe. “Now could you just-” You winced as you tried to reach his boxer to push them down yourself, instead settling on rubbing yourself on him. “James, I need you now!”</p><p>One look at your dark lustful eyes and his underwear were on the floor.</p><p>Finally entering you made his breath get stuck in his throat. The familiar yet so lost feeling of you around him made him light headed. It was overwhelming. Your hands gripping his hair, your thighs wrapped around his waist to keep him close, your lips biting on his bottom lip– Was this how Deacon shared his nights with you? His thoughts nagged at him. Pushing in you, claiming you his, watching you so vulnerable? Did he already have you in this very same bed? Did you share this moment when you cleaned this place? Could you lie to him just to have some sort of familiarity? Did you need to compare to see how Deek was better than him? Sick jealousy filled inside his veins, anger making him red. Did he fuck you like James was? He hold on tighter on your waist, slamming quicker and harder in you at every bitter thoughts his own brain pained him with.</p><p>The image of Deacon laying a single finger on you made him snap and James leaned back to hurry on your lips. Only he could share this with you, only him could make you moan like you were, only he could fuck you like he was. A growl passed his lips as you passed your tongue against his. Just as you were his, he was yours. Only you could make him lose his mind like this, only you could bring the possessiveness in him, only you could make him cum like you do. Your grip got tighter on his hair, your nails digging in his back, your flushed face tensing ever so lightly as you could feel your stomach tensed. He knew you were about to reach your own nirvana and when his name passed your glossy redden lips in the most filthiest way, his hips buckled faster against yours.</p><p>Your moans became a crying mess, pushing him harder and harder until you couldn’t hold it anymore. Reaching your climax, he locked his eyes in yours. The rhythm of yours hips was a mess,  yet his anger pushing him harder into you while your legs brought him closer for more finally made you come. Your hold on him didn’t lose up as you both panted, climbing down on your highs. Not even when he tried to step back to grab something to clean you. You held tight onto him, pulling him into a tight hug. And like the lost soul he was, he fell into your arms, hiding his face in your neck.</p><p>And like that, you both fell asleep.</p><p>The sudden panicked wake James had, wondering where he was, what happened, was shorten quickly by your sound asleep face. His heart beat back to a normal pace and he dared to lay a little longer by your side. Your wound’s bandage was still clear, it didn’t seem to have reopened through your messy time and he felt the shame and guilt filling him. He could have hurt you, he could have worsen everything. Yet, he felt complete. He had found you back. You were right here. Smiling, he pushed the hair out of your face, stroking your cheek. A light shiver shook you and he hurried at the sight. Grabbing a cloth to clean you from the mess he made, he quickly found back your cloth, dressing you as gently as he could not to wake you. A shower would be great but all luxuries couldn’t be afford in those times. He dressed himself up too, not keen to explain himself to Deacon, and for a split second, his heart melted back in his chest. Sitting by your side, you looked so content.</p><p>He never realised how sad and lonely he had been those last year, making his full heart even more heavier. He was so used to give, give and give that when you offered yourself back to him the night before, he realised he might be worthy to receive it. If he could give himself whole to you for just one kiss, he would do it right away. But he should know by now, no happy ever after were ever written for him. No matter what you told him, he couldn’t know what happened for you during this time. He couldn’t judge you for it either. And so, the whole in his heart got dig back up, quicker and more painful than before.</p><p>His hands gently held yours, softly caressing your fingers.</p><p>He nodded to himself. He was O'Brian, the cannon fodder. He burnt down one more but for once, he got something in exchange. You. Now, he had to do his part, he had to go back and leave you be. Never did he despise Deacon as much as he did when he loudly stopped outside before running to the door, slamming it open. It made everything much more harder to swallow. James had to force himself on his feet, hoping his clothes looked folded enough but Deacon couldn’t seem to care. Good, never did he. He couldn’t look at him, images of him with you in ways he wished he was the only one made him sick.</p><p>Deacon pushed him out of the way and let out a loud sigh. He looked terrible, blood spatters on his clothes and dark circles heaving under his eyes but a satisfied smile on his lips. A large red bag was handed to him and James hurried to open its contents. He was shocked to see everything he needed and with a sudden raise of voice from the biker, he was hurried to work. Then, it felt like time was running out of his grasp once more. He barely finished to administer you the painkiller leading you to a more peaceful rest and to stitch you back up before Deacon was on his ass again, begging answers from rhetorical questions. James would probably be able to snark something out but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He spent a long time, too long too close to you, taking care of Deek’s own stupid wounds he gathered from his run, trying desperately to be near you for one more second. But time stripped him once more of any wishes. And before he knew it, the sound of the chopper sang and his men were back.</p><p>It was time to leave. Without one last kiss, without one last hold, without a goodbye. You never were able to do those correctly, it seemed.</p><p>A rough slap on the shoulder and a bite down thanks, and James was to leave unprompted. It broke him to leave with only the glimpse of your sleeping face as he turned back but he guessed you were never meant to find each other again. He was too scared of hoping for a happy ending by preventing you of your own. So, he stayed the good cannon fodder he was and got into the chopper after nodding to Deacon, slightly stumbling under the weird look of his soldiers.</p><p>And once more, James felt more alone than ever.</p>
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